


feel the way you dance for me

by Euna



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Lapdance, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, Rimming, Romance, Size Kink, Size Queen Felix (For you horny people), dancer felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22320361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euna/pseuds/Euna
Summary: "Feeling refreshed yet?" Felix murmurs, working his hands into the knots in the back of Dimitri's neck."Hn…" It's hard to think with Felix touching him like this. "Refreshed is... perhaps not the word I would use."Felix performs a special dance for his King.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 27
Kudos: 243





	feel the way you dance for me

**Author's Note:**

> TWO fics??
> 
> I guess I'm a writer now, guys.
> 
> At this point it's just a self-indulgent lapdance PWP  
> Although I've always wanted to write a little something about dancer Felix, so thank you Lydia for the idea LOL  
> Will I ever write them not disgustingly in love? Naw.
> 
> Disclaimer: I have not read any of the other works along this vein prior to writing this so any similarities are purely coincidental!

When Dimitri returns to his chambers for the afternoon after a very long morning, with the intent to, despite his exhaustion, catch up on a mountain of paperwork that's waiting for him on his desk, he isn't prepared for his trusted advisor to corner him in his study before he has a chance to take more than a few steps into the room.

He is also not prepared for Felix to then push him down by his shoulders onto his armchair with the command to _stay._

Wrapped snugly in a fur-lined cloak Dimitri had been looking for since this morning, Felix announces that he is forcing Dimitri to take a break from his duties.

"As you are right now, you're of no use to anyone," he blithely states, loosening the clasps at his collar. "I'm going to fix that."

Dimitri has only a few seconds to contemplate what he means by 'fix that' before Felix is dropping the cloak to his feet, revealing an extremely familiar set of robes Dimitri hasn't seen since the war. 

He can't help but stare as Felix adjusts the outfit, sliding the gold cuffs on his arms back into place and fluffing out the skirt. He steps away from the cloak, picks it up off the floor and tosses it onto the desk behind Dimitri, knocking several letters and documents askew as he does.

"Felix, what—?"

The man in question returns to his sight, a teasing smile tugging at his mouth as Dimitri swallows, taking in his appearance fully. Time could corrode many things—including Dimitri's memory, but some things were still carved into his mind like stone. Things such as this.

"Is that…?"

"Yes."

"And it still…?"

"Fits? Yes. I found it among my belongings I'd left here. I've been waiting to use it."

"Oh."

Oh, indeed. Dimitri would recognize those dancer robes anywhere, and Dimitri of the past had _many_ impure thoughts about Felix in those clothes. 

In fact, he had endlessly fantasized about the various ways he would touch Felix if he let him.

"You look stunning," he whispers, awed. "Just like I remember."

Each time Felix danced for him, Dimitri had so badly wanted to slide his hands up his skirts and work his fingers down those thin black undershorts; to grab him by the waist and pull him flush against him, and have him dance and _dance_ but only ever for Dimitri.

And Goddess, how the desire to bite and suck and kiss every part of him he could reach would haunt his waking hours and the nights he couldn't sleep. Where he would lie awake in bed, moaning as he stroked himself to the thought of fucking into Felix, his long limbs clad in silver and gold and wrapped around him tight like he'd never let him go. 

Sometimes he would even work himself open with a few fingers, imagining they belonged to Felix.

He never told Felix of this. Never breathed a word of it.

And yet... it seems that Felix still knew anyway.

"How did you…?" 

Dimitri reaches out to touch Felix, noting with some surprise that while this _is_ the dancer outfit he remembers, there have been some modifications done to the bodice. There's less material, and more skin on display than ever before. He can outline the taut lines of muscle that span Felix's stomach now if he wants, along with the slight curvature of his narrow waist, and each battle-earned scar scoring his skin.

But when he tries to do just that, he is immediately rebuffed with a slap on the wrist.

"No," Felix says. He gingerly sits down on Dimitri's lap, swooping the skirt to the side and giving Dimitri a lovely view of his long legs.

Dimitri frowns, his lower lip jutting out just so that Felix leans over to grant him a brief kiss. He feels Felix guide his hands to the armrests of the chair, and when he pulls back, lightly nipping at Dimitri, he murmurs,

"You'll be good for me, won't you?"

Seven words.

Seven simple, unobtrusive words. Dimitri senses that they carry a weight he has yet to fully understand. 

But… he can be good. Yes. 

"Yes, beloved," he replies, and Felix—flush at the endearment—looks pleased. 

"And do you trust me?"

"Yes." 

He trusts Felix, would trust him with his very life.

"Good."

Felix then makes a gesture to a man seated in the far corner of the study that Dimitri hadn't noticed before. He almost leaps out of the chair in a panic, but Felix stops him with a hand to his chest and a warning look.

"I've paid for his discretion," he whispers. 

"Why is he—"

"Shh…" Felix holds a finger to Dimitri's lips. "Listen." 

From the corner comes the sound of music. A slow, sensual melody spilling into the room.

"Oh…" he breathes. Felix smiles faintly, dropping the hand by his mouth to his neck.

"I remember you used to stare at me all the time," Felix says, trailing his hand down Dimitri's chest and dipping his fingers into the fastenings of his tunic to pull the strings apart slowly and carefully. "When you thought I couldn't see you."

He rests his cheek to Dimitri's, and Dimitri can feel the softness of eyelashes touching his skin like a butterfly's wings, warm breath at his ear, his bangs tickling the side of his face. "But I felt your eyes on me, Dimitri. Even when it wasn't you I was dancing for. You always did like to watch, didn't you?"

"Yes…"

"Well then…" Felix slides off of him in one smooth movement, sandals making a soft tapping noise as he creates space between them. With a hand propped on his hip he looks back over his shoulder at Dimitri, amber eyes sharp and narrowed in challenge. "Watch me. And don't you dare take your eyes off me."

Felix assumes a starting position several paces ahead, his back to Dimitri, and releases his hair from its tie, shaking it out so it drapes down over his shoulders in a curtain of dark waves. He raises his arms above his head, beginning with a sway of his hips, his arms arching slowly down to his sides, wrists light like petals floating delicately downstream. 

As his feet move in time with the lute while he turns around, Felix lifts his skirt up just enough to expose the length of his left leg, loosely shaking the airy silk with each movement of his hips and his hand. 

There's a lilt in the music and he twirls, pinwheeling his arms with a flourish, his hair in disarray, and Dimitri has just enough time to catch a glimpse of his rump underneath his skirt before it's covered again. He can't help but lean forward in his chair, drinking in the sight, praying to the Goddess for another glance up his skirt. 

And as Dimitri watches Felix, the way his hips wordlessly map out the tune of the music, he thinks about the first time Felix ever danced for him.

_He remembers Felix_ _gliding—not walking—but gliding_ _onto the battlefield in his minted dancer attire, long skirt rippling around bared legs, sword drawn, faint spark of Thunder at his fingertips, and how dry his mouth had been when he'd laid eyes on him that day._

_"Looking good, Felix! Save a dance for me?"_

_Sylvain had jeered. And Felix's immediate reaction was to send a bolt of lightning straight into the ground at his feet._

_When the professor ordered Felix to Dimitri's side to put his newly acquired skills to use, Felix had reluctantly come to his aid. The gaze he had leveled Dimitri with as he approached was so sharp it would have easily rended the flesh from the bones of a lesser man._

_"Pay attention, boar," he'd sneered, sheathing his sword and changing his stance. "I'm only doing this once." And he began to dance._

_It was... clumsy and unrefined. Felix's steps were too uncertain, and just on the wrong side of uncoordinated as well._

_And truth be told, it terrified more than it inspired, since Felix had been scowling the entire time. But the faint glow of magic that surrounded Dimitri as Felix finished had still left him feeling rejuvenated._

This time, however, it's different. This is Felix after spending years honing his craft, perfecting each nuanced step, every sway of his hips, every movement of his arms. 

He flows like silk in water and he's absolutely breathtaking.

If not for his obedience, Dimitri would have already thrown him onto the royal bed, torn away those layers and feasted on the supple milky flesh of his thighs and the most intimate parts of him until he was screaming out in ecstasy.

But.

He has to be patient.

Felix steps into another spin, and this time he arches backwards at the end. Stretching his arms overhead, he runs his hands through his hair, and then back down over the length of his torso and down to the tassels at his groin.

He glances at Dimitri, biting his lip and giving his hair a toss, and Dimitri swears he can feel the wood under his hands start to splinter. He… wasn't aware bodies could even move this way, much less Felix's, despite how graceful the man is with a sword in his hand. Goddess, he's getting hard already from looking at him.

After one final spin, Felix suddenly drops down into a kneel, skirt fanning around him. He stalks across the floor, eyes on Dimitri as he slowly makes his way towards the chair. Dimitri watches him like a hawk; watches the way his arms and legs flex as he crawls, watches the easy and sensuous roll of his hips, and listens to the soft whisper of material just barely audible above the music. He laments the length of the skirt because he would have a wonderful view of Felix's backside if not for the excess fabric, but he'll take what he can get.

Felix plants his hands on Dimitri's knees and slides his palms up his thighs, raising himself up off the ground. He stops to briefly squeeze his hips and, completely avoiding the obvious tenting of Dimitri's pants, grabs a hold of the edges of his tunic.

"Take this off for me would you?" He hums, glancing up at Dimitri through his eyelashes. Dimitri hesitates for a brief moment when their eyes meet, but then his breath quickens as he rushes to obey. He rips his shirt up and over his head, tearing one of the seams in his eagerness. Cool air hits his skin, and he suppresses an involuntary shudder.

"Good…" Felix returns his hands to his legs, this time pressing his thumbs into his inner thighs on either side of Dimitri's arousal. He briefly noses at it, a small huff of breath escaping him when Dimitri bucks his hips up in response. 

"Please…" Dimitri hears himself say— _no_ —he _whines._ His hands clench painfully around the wooden armrests of his chair. They're sturdy, but they won't hold if he's not careful. He wasn't imagining it before, there's a sliver poking into his left index finger. Felix seems to notice this too. He continues to massage his thighs, but he's looking at Dimitri's hands.

"Be good, Dimitri. Don't break them."

He's trying...

But it's incredibly difficult when Felix flashes a grin at him from between his legs and stands up fully, turning himself around, fingers digging into Dimitri's knees just enough to _hurt_. It's a reminder. A reminder to _only look, Dimitri. Don't touch._

And Goddess, when Felix gathers the skirt up in his hands, hiking it well past his hips so Dimitri can see the backs of his legs, the hint of cheek where thigh meets the underside of his shorts drives him nearly to the brink of his sanity. It's only made worse when Felix bends forward, half-sitting on him, and purposely drives his ass back onto the cock straining against Dimitri's breeches. He grinds in slow circles against him, all the while assessing his reaction, hair spilling over his shoulder as he glances back at him.

"Is this what you always imagined when you thought about me?" He all but purrs, voice low and husky.

Dimitri sucks in a breath. "Ah... um... Something like this, yes," he admits, wetting his lips. He cants a nervous look over at the musician in the corner, plucking away at his lute and Felix grinds down hard, punishing, making him gasp.

"Pay attention," he snaps. An echo of the past. "I told you not to take your eyes off me."

Chastised, he looks to Felix once more, eye trailing down every bump of his arched spine, all the way to where their bodies meet. He would like to reach out and grab Felix's hips, pull him forcefully into his lap and run his hand between his legs to feel _him_. And he almost does. His hands lift off the chair briefly and Felix, almost immediately, whips around and pushes him back with his foot.

"What did I say, Dimitri?" He glares.

And wow, does that send a course of heat throughout his entire body. Though these are times of peace, Felix is as diligent as ever with his training, and age has only made his reflexes sharper. Perhaps even sharper than the edge of his blade.

"To be good," he says quietly, giving Felix an apologetic look. 

"That's right."

Felix considers him, expression softening, and removes his foot from his chest, replacing it with a kiss. He circles around to the back of the chair, dragging blunt nails through Dimitri's hair. Dimitri's head lolls back against Felix's shoulder as the man leans over him, sliding his hands down his chest, all the way to his inner thighs and back up again. The bangles on his wrists are cold, but Felix's skin is warm and the contrast between the two is delightfully stimulating. The scent of pine is subtle, but Dimitri breathes it in, burying his nose in as much of Felix's hair as he can.

"Feeling refreshed yet?" Felix murmurs, working his hands into the knots in the back of Dimitri's neck.

"Hn…" It's hard to think with Felix touching him like this. "Refreshed is... perhaps not the word I would use."

He passes a hand down Dimitri's chest again, this time palming him through his pants. Dimitri's knees jerk in response.

"I can see that." 

"Felix, please…"

Dimitri feels sorry for the musician. How uncomfortable it must be for him to witness such intimacy between the King and his lover. Though from here it appears the man is pointedly avoiding all eye contact with them anyway. Wise of him. 

Felix removes his hand and comes back around to his front. He grips the backrest of the chair and swings his body up onto Dimitri's lap, trapping Dimitri's thighs between his knees. His clothed arousal bumps against Felix, and that contact alone makes him shiver. 

Felix holds steady to the back of the chair, arms folded behind Dimitri's head, closing him in as he rocks against him, all but flush to his chest. 

"When did you get so good at this?" He manages, trying to focus on Felix's face and not the building tension between them. It's the only way he knows to keep his head.

"I've had time to practice, here and there," he replies, pushing his half-hard cock against Dimitri's. Dimitri whimpers, and Felix breathes out a laugh. "Are you surprised?"

"You… the professor never taught you this did they?"

"No. It was Dorothea, and Hilda." Felix looks amused. "They called it a special dance."

A special dance. Dimitri can see why.

"Remind me…" he grunts as Felix bites sharply into his neck, canines nearly piercing his skin. He soothes the bite with his tongue, making a content noise. "Remind me to send them a thank you letter, would you?"

"Of course."

Hands grip Dimitri's hair, tilting his head back as Felix descends upon his neck once more, _marking_ him, he thinks, with every bite. His neck is sensitive, and when Felix kisses under his ear he squirms in the chair, goosebumps raising over his naked torso.

"You never told me why you agreed to represent us at the White Heron Cup," Dimitri says. 

Keep focused. Keep control.

Felix parts from his neck with one last gentle kiss, just below his Adam's apple. He unravels his arms, smoothing his hands over Dimitri's shoulders and his collarbone, tracing old scars.

Dimitri hisses, knuckles blanching as Felix then leans back on his knees and cups his chest, groping at the sensitive flesh. Every tease of his nipples with his thumbs stimulates his nerve endings; tiny sparks of pleasure that go straight to his groin. It is, perhaps, _inappropriate_ to try to host a conversation in their present position, but Dimitri can't help his curiosity.

"I didn't have a choice," Felix answers. His delightfully calloused fingers squeeze at him with a practiced ease. Dimitri's head drops to his chest with a moan. "The professor convinced me it would make me a better swordsman."

Ah.

And of course Felix, in his single-minded pursuit of all things sword related, would have thrown himself at the task until he mastered it.

"I see… and did it?"

It did. Dimitri knows it did.

Felix had been an invaluable asset in their efforts to reclaim the capital, and at each subsequent battle before their final storm of the Imperial castle, stopping Edelgard's—

Ah. There he goes again. 

Focus, Dimitri.

Felix quietly snorts, abandoning his chest to rest his hands back on his shoulders. This time he does a full body roll, and there's no mistaking the now fully hard press of Felix catching against his torso, the man biting his lip to stifle a groan when he does. It takes everything he has not to grab Felix by the waist and let him rut against Dimitri until he comes inside those tiny black shorts of his.

"Are you really... ah... asking me that?" He says, followed by another roll of his hips.

"No… no, I suppose not." 

"Then let's not talk about it."

He lifts himself higher still on his knees, cradles Dimitri's face in his hands and presses him to his covered chest. Dimitri is happy to nuzzle him, to rub his cheeks against the plane of his breast.

He is surrounded by the smell of him, the heat of him, and would love to taste him if he could, but there's too much material in his way. He sighs against Felix, snagging the fabric of the bodice between his teeth. He tugs on it with a low growl, and Felix makes a warning sound.

"Gentle," is all he says. Dimitri lets go, mouthing at him through the silk instead, surprised when Felix lets him.

It's not for long, however, as Felix draws back from him after a minute or so of teasing. He lowers himself back down, fixing his skirt so it falls behind him and over Dimitri's knees.

And when Felix settles onto Dimitri's lap properly at last, the cleft of his ass perfectly aligns with the hard line of his length. He drags himself along it, riding Dimitri through his pants nice and slow, and the feel of him on his cock is delicious. 

" _Shit_... Oh… Goddess, you're so hard," he mutters. "It feels like your dick is going to rip right through your pants."

" _Felix."_

He looks up at Dimitri, his lips pressing tightly together as a small sound escapes him. His brow is furrowed, ears and face pink, and Dimitri loves when Felix starts to come undone like this; his pleasure on full display for his King.

" _Fuck…"_ he says, resting his forehead against Dimitri's shoulder, hips still moving ever so slightly. "He needs to leave. Now."

Felix inhales and lifts his head, glancing back at their unwitting voyeur. His voice remains steady when he addresses the man, even as he rocks into Dimitri.

"That's enough. You're dismissed."

The music stops abruptly.

And thank Sothis that Felix is obscuring both of them from sight, or Dimitri might die of embarrassment right then and there when the man gathers his things and rushes to bow to them on his way out.

"Your Majesty, Your Grace, it's been an honour playing for you," he says, completely red and avoiding their faces. "I bid you both a good day." And he hastily makes his exit. 

After the man leaves, Felix gets up to lock the door. Dimitri sighs in relief. 

When he returns, he touches Dimitri's cheek and lips before kneeling between his legs, tugging off his boots and unfastening the ties on his breeches. Dimitri raises his hips for him, and Felix pulls his pants and his smallclothes down and off, exposing him entirely.

He almost misses the look in Felix's eyes as he stares unabashedly at Dimitri's cock—equal parts surprise and _hunger_. Had it really been so long since they'd last been together?

Felix eases a hand around him, thumbing gently at the head. "I forgot how big you are..."

Dimitri feels heat flood his face. Felix isn't shy about sharing his thoughts about Dimitri's rather—ah— _generous_ endowment, but it doesn't mean he's used to hearing them. He resists the urge to cross his legs, to hide himself.

Felix wraps his other hand around the base as well. He licks up the shaft, sharpening his tongue when he meets the tip, then dips his tongue into the slit, and Dimitri suddenly wants to pull on his hair. The armrests splinter further under his grip.

"I can't wait to feel you inside me," Felix breathes, pumping him with a steady rhythm. "I kept thinking about it today." He glances up at Dimitri, tucks his hair behind his ear, and slots his lips around him to draw him into his mouth. Dimitri tenses in the chair.

Felix exhales heavily through his nose, easing his way halfway down and back up his cock. He frees one of his hands, digs around in his robes as he starts to suck, and Dimitri gasps, curling his fingers and toes, his joints cracking noisily. He wills his hips to stay still so as not to choke Felix.

He can't wait either, but he must. He doesn't have permission to move yet. But he's being good. He's being _so_ good, surely Felix would agree.

"Felix, oh beloved, please... please…"

"Please what?" He slurs around him. Saliva drips from the corners of his mouth and Sothis be damned if _that_ isn't the hottest thing Dimitri has ever seen.

"Let me have you," he pleads. "Let me... let me fuck you."

Felix makes a pleased sound, increasing the pressure around his dick with a hard suck. "I like when you swear," he slurs again. "Say it again for me."

This time he doesn't hesitate. "Let me fuck you, Felix."

Felix smiles, giving one last suck before he pulls off and wipes his chin. Dimitri sees he's procured a small vial of oil from his robes.

"Yes," Felix says, getting to his feet.

"Ah, then shouldn't we—?" Dimitri starts to get up as well.

"No. Here is fine." 

Felix splays his hand over Dimitri's heart, leans in and curls his tongue into his mouth. His lips are cool, tongue and insides of his cheeks soft and warm, and Dimitri forgets what it means to breathe even as Felix's breath washes over his face. He wonders, as his knees grow weak, if this is what drowning feels like.

Gradually easing away from Dimitri with a chaste kiss, Felix walks awkwardly behind him. Dimitri hears him drag the cloak off the desk, taking the remaining contents of the desktop with it. An ink well smashes, spilling all over the floor but Felix pays it no attention.

Instead he makes quick work of spreading Dimitri's cloak in the middle of the floor like a blanket. 

Dimitri looks at him wide-eyed.

"Felix! Do you intend to—"

"Ride you until I break you, Your Majesty?" His voice is breathy and his eyes burn. "Yes."

It's not like they haven't—he's had Felix take control like this before, but—

"But on the floor?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Ah, no… no I suppose not."

"That's what I thought," he says, and then gently, as he combs his fingers through Dimitri's hair, "Lay down for me, won't you?"

Like a soldier commanded by his general, Dimitri obeys. 

The chair groans as he gets up and he maneuvers his way onto the cloak, settling on his back. Felix reaches under his skirt, sliding off his shorts, and makes himself comfortable on top of Dimitri's legs.

He's keeping the outfit on, Dimitri belatedly realizes, his breath catching in his throat.

Hand slick with oil, Felix leisurely strokes Dimitri, covering him thoroughly until he's satisfied. 

He gathers up his skirt with one hand and raises himself to his knees, lining himself up with Dimitri's cock. Alarmed, Dimitri's hand flies out to stop him.

"Felix, wait!"

Felix pauses in his descent, glaring down his nose at him impatiently. "What?"

"You didn't— you haven't—"

"Who do you take me for, an amateur?" He scoffs, batting his hand away. "I already did before you arrived." 

He braces his hand on Dimitri's stomach and teases himself on just the head at first, dragging it across his hole, and dipping Dimitri inside ever so slightly. The feeling is maddening, but he stays still and lets him until Felix is ready.

"How badly do you want me, hm?" He taunts, pressing down a little more with each pass. Dimitri groans in response. The question is rhetorical; Felix knows already.

And Goddess, the feel of him so tight around Dimitri when he stops teasing and _drops,_ taking him to the hilt is enough to render Dimitri utterly speechless.

Felix makes a choked noise. His fingernails dig into Dimitri's stomach, breath coming out quickly as he adjusts.

" _Hah... mm_ …" he moans, squirming around him. "It feels like you're going to split me in half..."

With difficulty, Dimitri finds his voice. "Is it...too much?" He asks. Felix shakes his head, choppy waves of hair flitting about his shoulders.

"No. No, it's perfect. Just give me...just give me a minute." Dimitri shifts, making himself more comfortable on the floor, and Felix groans, slapping his other hand down on his chest. The skirt falls. "Stay still, I—"

Felix says nothing for some time, merely taking deep breaths through his nose. Perhaps he had misjudged—miscalculated in his preparations. Dimitri hopes he isn't in any serious pain or he doesn't think he could ever forgive himself.

Eventually, though, Felix exhales and begins to move with small rotations of his hips. His hands find Dimitri's and he places them high on his waist. Dimitri takes it as permission to touch him.

He traces patterns into Felix's skin over his ribs and his hip bones and his hands smooth underneath the skirt to Felix's ass, cupping one cheek with a hand while the other seeks out their union. He drags his fingers down the crevice between his cheeks to where he's sheathed inside Felix and the heat is almost unbearable where they slide against one another, he can hardly believe it. He gazes up at Felix, mouth parted.

Under his touch and scrutiny, Felix tenses, embarrassment washing his face a lovely shade of pink. 

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking.

He wants to say he's exploring _uncharted territory,_ but it sounds ridiculous even in his head because they've joined together like this dozens of times. Certainly each time Felix visits the castle he inevitably finds his way into Dimitri's bed night after night, whether it's by Dimitri's request or, on the rare occasion (that is happening more frequently the bolder he becomes) Felix's. 

"I want to feel every part of you," he says instead, squeezing the cheek under his palm. If possible, Felix flushes more, but he does not make a move to remove either of his hands. "I have dreamt about this so many times, you have no idea."

"I disagree," Felix begins, obstinate despite his embarrassment, "You are _very_ easy to read. It wasn't hard to figure out what you wanted." He punctuates his point by lifting himself almost completely off his cock before plunging down hard, forcing a grunt out of Dimitri.

" _O-oh_..."

"Mm," Felix agrees. Then he leans forward and raises his hips in preparation to ride Dimitri exactly like he promised. Dimitri takes a hold of his waist again and thrusts up just as Felix pushes down, and they begin to move together.

Felix is magnificent to watch as he works his hips atop Dimitri, steady in his pace even as his face contorts with mounting pleasure and he starts to lose his composure. His eyes flutter shut and his mouth hangs slightly open, quiet keening noises spilling forth each time he impales himself on Dimitri's cock. 

The sound of their bodies joining together amidst their moans is obscene and so _wet,_ that were anyone to pass by the doors to his study, Dimitri would never be able to face them in public again.

Dimitri thrusts up hard into Felix and the man falls forward, his arms shaking as he tries to keep himself from collapsing on Dimitri entirely. Dimitri pushes his hair away from his face when he does, and Felix follows his hand, brushing his lips against his palm with a small whine.

" _Dimitri…_ "

"Gorgeous," Dimitri murmurs. His hand draws a line from Felix's lips down to his stomach and his pelvis to where his dick is curling up from under his thin white underskirt. It bounces each time he moves, dripping on him and tempting him so, and while he could touch—could drive Felix to completion as they are now, he won't yet. The beast in him hungers. It wants to taste more, touch more of him.

"Felix…" he rests his hands upon his love's waist, trying to coax him into slowing down, to draw it out, to make it _last._

Felix's eyes open in surprise, glancing at Dimitri with helpless confusion, silently asking him _why?_

"In light of my good behaviour… will you permit me to do something selfish?"

Felix gives him a look that suggests that whatever he is thinking better be good. Under that penetrating stare, Dimitri does his best to forge ahead.

"I would like to… please let me show you how I—I would…"

Even without the presence of an audience, Dimitri finds it difficult to put into words what he would like to do with Felix. But just as Felix knew about Dimitri's fixation with his dancing, he also seems to know what Dimitri wants of him in this very moment without him having to say it.

"Really?" The word is spoken incredulously, but its biting edge is softened by the underlying desperation for release that Dimitri can hear in his voice. "Okay… okay, fine."

With great difficulty, Felix slows to a halt and separates them, sliding off of Dimitri with a low whimper. He looks none too pleased about it, sitting back on Dimitri's thighs with a scowl, his face and neck completely flushed.

He's lovely, and for a moment all Dimitri can do is drink in the sight of him.

"Well?" Felix huffs, interrupting his daze. "Get on with it then."

Dimitri sits up, lifting Felix by his hips and easing him down onto the cloak and onto his stomach. Felix follows, raising himself up onto his hands and knees for him.

"You want me like this?"

But it's not...

"No. Not quite."

He grabs the back of Felix's neck and pushes down. Felix buckles with a yelp, forced into pressing the side of his face into the cloak.

" _Dimitri, what—_ "

Dimitri throws the skirt up over his back, trailing his fingers down muscular thighs, and briefly rubbing the outside of his slicked and reddened hole. Felix inhales quietly, but lets out a gasp when Dimitri replaces his fingers with his tongue, flattening it against him, his hands wrapped firmly around Felix's thighs. He feels the texture of the oil in his mouth, and eases the tip of his tongue just inside Felix, delighting in the way he trembles beneath his hands.

"Oh…" Felix's voice is small. "Like this."

"Yes…" he draws back enough to say before plunging back in with deeper strokes. He sweeps his tongue up the underside of his sack before spreading his cheeks further, sucking on the loose ring of muscle in between. Felix jerks in response, squeezing his thighs together.

"Uhn…" he groans. "Mm... shit… _shit..._ "

Dimitri grins against him, continuing with gusto to devour him with his tongue with quick little flicks and long licks until Felix can't take it anymore. He draws out the most beautiful sounds of pleasure from his lover, cataloging each gasp and moan as he hears them and storing them away for personal use later—when Felix has to return to Fraldarius territory.

Felix seems to reach his breaking point, however, when Dimitri uses his thumb to stretch him open, shoving his tongue as far inside as he can.

" _Fuck!_ _Dimitri!"_ He sobs, fisting his hands into the cloak and humping uselessly at the air. His cock hangs low between his legs, leaking fluids and staining the cloak below it a deeper blue.

"Yes, love?"

If looks could kill, Dimitri would be meeting with the Goddess right about now. Felix glares at him, a single narrowed eye visible through his hair. His expression is only slightly tempered by the fire in his cheeks and the saliva wetting his parted lips.

"Enough of this," he rasps, shoving his hips backwards. "Fuck me. Make me come."

The closer Felix is to finishing, the more impatient he becomes. Dimitri learned this the hard way the first few times it happened. Felix would take matters into his own hands after he got tired of waiting for him too long.

He would love to lay here for hours with Felix, drawing him to the brink over and over again, lavishing him with praise and adoration until the stars came out; would love to spread himself open for Felix to take until Dimitri is begging to the Goddess for mercy, until they're both a mess and too exhausted to continue. 

Unfortunately he can't, so for now, he does as he's told.

He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in hand, slipping back into Felix with a sigh. In a mimicry of Felix's dance from earlier, Felix rolls himself against Dimitri as he locks their bodies together. Dimitri hears him cry out when he snaps his hips forward, pulling Felix back onto his dick. He aims his next thrust deep inside Felix, hastening his pace from languid to quick and punishing, folding himself over Felix's back.

" _Oh... oh_ …"

Felix's hands claw at the cloak as he struggles to stay up on his knees, his cries like a sweet melody to Dimitri's ears when Dimitri strikes his insides just right. He tries to find purchase in the cloak, but he keeps slipping, feet sliding out from under him each time he drives back against Dimitri's thrusts. It's only Dimitri's hands on his hips that keep him from falling completely.

"Mm... yes... _Yes,_ Dimitri, _yes…"_

It's everything he's ever wanted and more. Felix here with him. His beloved, stalwart, stubborn, _beautiful_ Felix. 

Dimitri hauls him upright into his lap, burying himself deeper, deeper still into Felix, fucking the breath out of him. His arms crush around him with a bruising force. He's close. Oh he's _so close_ , and he's dizzy with the thought of Felix. 

The thought of this man trusting him enough to let him _see_ him— _see all of him._ To see him at his best, his worst, his most guarded and at his most vulnerable as he is now is a gift Dimitri will cherish forever.

To reach out from the darkness and have Felix take his hand had been unfathomable.

Felix, who has always held Dimitri's heart in his hand, and who alone had crushed it beneath his heel, only to willingly pick it back up, clean it, mend it, and cherish it as if it were his own, was someone Dimitri never thought he would ever deserve.

Dimitri may be the King of the Lions but the man with the lion's heart has always been Felix.

Felix arches in his lap, his back flush to his chest with an arm wrapped around Dimitri's neck. His head lays against his shoulder, and every sound he makes he tries to stifle against a clenched fist. Dimitri takes his hand, twining their fingers together.

"No," he hisses, nosing against his neck. He bites into the shell of his ear and Felix whimpers in response. "Let me hear you."

He was never able to hear Felix above the voices of the dead when it mattered, but he hears him now, and vows he will for the rest of his life.

Felix tightens around him, meeting Dimitri with erratic and desperate thrusts of his own. His knees, despite the thick material of the cloak, are red and raw and Dimitri suspects he will be bruised by morning.

" _Touch me_ ," he gasps. " _Touch me, I'm almost there_."

Dimitri reaches between his legs to find Felix, warm, dripping and wanting, and takes him in hand. 

Felix clamps down around him and the next thing Dimitri sees is white, his hips stuttering as he's blindsided by his own orgasm. He bites down hard into Felix's neck with a groan, stroking him off while he continues to fuck into him, dick twitching and filling Felix with his release.

Felix himself comes with a soft and sweet cry not long after, burying his face into the side of Dimitri's neck and spilling over onto his fingers. 

Dimitri laments that he is unable to see his face when he does.  
  


*

Until Felix settles in his arms with a sigh, Dimitri holds him tight, rocking him and taking in the heady scent of sex and sweat and _Felix_ through his nose.

They breathe together, heavy pants dying down as their bodies and their sweat cool.

He takes their linked hands and brings them to his mouth, kissing Felix's knuckles. 

"Oh Felix… thank you," he says, kissing them again. "For dancing for me, for everything…but how did you know?"

"Sap." Felix laughs breathlessly, shifting in his lap. "You weren't the only one who was watching when the other wasn't looking."

He lightly rubs a hand on Dimitri's knee. "How do you feel now?"

Dimitri hums, nuzzling against Felix.

"Good," he replies. He feels boneless, weightless, lazy with post-orgasm bliss, and...

"Just good?" His voice is light, teasing.

...hmm?

There's something else he's feeling… something he can't quite put his finger on, now that he thinks of it.

Felix shifts again and—

"Oh."

Dimitri leans back as Felix turns to him, a smirk on his face.

"There's a reason why it's called a special dance, Dimitri."

Oh…

Hm. 

"And I'm not due to leave for Fraldarius for another day."

On second thought, perhaps they _can_ stay here until nightfall after all.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all, folks! ;)
> 
> Come find me on twitter [@Bumblevetr](https://twitter.com/Bumblevetr)


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